


Finding Your Way Home

by StandinShadow



Series: Anne of Green Gables [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, But a part of his arc is getting better at them, Hurt/Comfort, Keith (Voltron) Angst, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Korean Keith (Voltron), Lance (Voltron) Angst, Psychological Trauma, Self-Esteem Issues, implied abandonment, self-injury
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-04 03:57:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11547015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StandinShadow/pseuds/StandinShadow
Summary: A sequel to Kindred Spirits, where Keith has lost his way and lost Red, and Lance and the others try to help him find the path home.





	Finding Your Way Home

Once upon a time, there were five lions and each had a cub of their own that they loved very much. But once, Red’s cub got very lost and Red wasn’t sure she would find him.

* * *

Keith doesn’t remember the walk down the hall after he leaves Lance and Red, mind blank, carefully blank the way he’s made it be now. But he finds himself in the training room, gloves tossed to the floor as he presses his palms against the cold metal walls. It’s not the metal Keith wants, not the fire that used to move him and push him. He wants Red but Red doesn’t want him, no one wants him. No one does no one ever has and -

“Fuck,” Keith murmurs as he looks down and sees his hands balled into fists, bruising already starting to form on the right one. He’s punching the wall. Keith knows he should stop, but he punches the wall again instead, and then again, methodic and hard until he can barely see straight and the air smells like iron and -

“Red?” Keith says in a small voice as his fist collides with the wall, metal dripping down his hand and staining the edge of his sleeve. Keith sinks into that thrum, that warm beat he grew so used to and then lost just as quickly. Keith lets out a strangled laugh, falling flat against the metal wall. He can hear Red again. “Red!”

But it’s only momentary, Red fading as his laughter does, the thrum growing quieter and quieter until it sounds more like white noise. And then nothing. Keith bites back a cry, raising his fists to methodically pummel the wall again even though the anger’s gone. All of it’s gone. Then he hears a voice, low and hurt in a way he never ever wanted to be the one to make it. “Keith?”

Keith turns around to find Kolivan standing there, expression carefully blank as he takes in Keith with his bleeding knuckles. Shiro, though, looks like someone just broke his heart, gaze tired and frightened as he reaches for Keith’s arm just like the last time they were together at the Blade. Keith wonders if there’s a chance that the past six weeks here and the six weeks Shiro were missing were another dream. He’d like them to be.

****

“Kolivan and Shiro found you punching the walls until your fists bled,” Mylek says, her calm soft as she stares at Keith, gaze unflinching as though they were talking about the weather and not his breakdown. Keith looks down at his carefully bandaged hands, shrugging a little. He doesn’t remember why or when he started punching the wall, just the blinding rage that worse than anything he ever felt before. It’s gone now, but his chest is still tight and jaw tense, phantom rage flitting across his body.

“And you’re the doctor they send people to when they don’t want to waste pods on us?” Keith asks in an equally blank voice, raising one eyebrow at her. He knows that’s not it, not when Shiro is the one who bandaged his hands. Kolivan told him they would take him to the pods later. Keith thinks he should probably be terrified.    If he’s thrown out of the Blade, he has nowhere left to go. He’s alone again. Keith _wants_ to care about that.

“I’m a therapist,” Mylek answers in a steady voice, and Keith wonders if that means the same thing for the Blade as it does for humans. He shrinks a little in his chair either way, crossing his arms loosely as he stares at the floor. Keith has only been in therapy once, during an evaluation in foster care. They determined he didn’t more therapy. The Garrison never offered him any help at all before they sent him away. “The Blade is worried about your outbursts.”

“Outbursts? It was one,” Keith objects, surprised by the annoyance in his own voice, at the way his eyebrows are starting to pinch together. Keith takes a few deep breaths, trying to get himself under control. Keith’s not feeling anything, so he doesn’t know why he’s glaring or why his voice is rising like that.

Mylek cocks her head at him, smile calm and serene in a way that puts Keith on edge. Or maybe just today in general is. He hasn’t been on edge in so long. “This was by far the most extreme yes, but other Blade cadets have noted that you’ve had moments where you suddenly became snappish or moody.”

“So what? Blades don’t feel anything?” Keith asks in a low voice, sliding further into his chair. He knows there have been moments, where the low thrum in the back of his head came back and Keith either snapped or hid away in his room, the white noise in the back of his mind sending messages Keith couldn’t understand. He feels so lost and he doesn’t understand why. He fixed himself. Keith should be better now.

“No, but you didn’t the first month you were here,” Mylek answers, and her tone becomes more gentle as she leans forward so Keith has to look her in the eye. “In some ways this was a relief, but we cannot have you endangering yourself or others –“

“I’m not going to hurt anyone!” Keith snaps, and this time the thrum beats in the back of his head for a moment before fading away again. Keith’s never hit anyone else when he’s mad, only lashed out with words. Keith’s only ever trying to punish himself and he doesn’t understand why nobody gets that. “Look, these moments are … regressions.”

Mylek raises an eyebrow at that, sliding a hand other her chin as she stares at him. Her expression is curious as she gestures for him to continue, and Keith bites his lips because he really doesn’t want to. “Regressions?”

“I used to be hotheaded, but I grew up,” Keith explains with another shrug, voice a little wistful as he thinks back to himself three months ago, right before Shiro disappeared again. He feels so far away from that.

“Keith, you and your friends have been through a lot of emotional upheavals and loss in the past year, especially given your age,” Mylek says in a calm, comforting voice, one hand coming to squeeze his shoulder gently. It’s the first time someone’s touched him like that since he left the Castle and Keith can’t stop himself from leaning into it, the thrum there again but encouraging for once. “Do you think there’s any chance you might have been traumatized-“

“Trust me, I would’ve been a long time ago,” Keith says as he pulls back, a bitter laugh sliding from his lips. This isn’t trauma; trauma’s not a choice.

“And maybe you were, trauma and reactions to it aren’t linear,” Mylek answers him and Keith turns his gaze away from her and toward the window. The stars are dimmer than usual, and Keith bites his lips and tries to remember what they looked like through the Castle windows or Red. “It’s okay to admit you made a mistake, you know.”

Keith stiffens at that, shaking his head a little. He didn’t make a mistake, he couldn’t have. He’s better like this, the old Keith couldn’t lead Voltron and he couldn’t control himself. He didn’t make a mistake, because if he did - “Not if you don’t know to fix it.”

* * *

“Keith?” Lance calls as he sees the other boy come out of a door, Keith frowning for a moment as he catches sight of him. Lance winces at the expression, a part of him wondering if Keith wishes he would leave, if seeing him is too much of a reminder that he’s not Red’s anymore (Lance feels that way about Allura sometimes and the guilt threatens to eat him alive). “We’re staying here for a few weeks, if you wanted to talk.”

“Did I ever?” Keith asks even as he comes to stand next to Lance, a small smile on his face that feels hollow. Lance still grins back, leaning against the wall next to Keith, trying to find something in the other boy’s eyes that feels alive.

“Sometimes,” Lance mutters in a low voice, because he remembers sitting in the training room and the hangar with this just like Keith. He remembers when Keith wanted to reach out to them, but was afraid of being rejected. Now Lance is afraid Keith doesn’t even care about being rejected. Lance glances down at frowns, bandages messily tied around Keith’s knuckles, a stark white next to the dark grey of his blade uniform. “What happened to your hands?”

“I punched a wall a lot,” Keith answers after a beat, gaze growing far away as he bites his lips. Lance thinks Keith seems almost ashamed and he hates that it gives hope. But shame is still more than nothing. “Mylek thinks I’m traumatized.”

“Mylek … might have a point,” Lance says, smile soft but worried as he moves a little closer to Keith, their shoulders brushing together. He doesn’t ask who Mylek is, he doesn’t need to know. Keith glances up at him, and Lance can see a flicker of surprise and confusion in his gaze before it goes out again, but somehow his eyes feel less empty than before.

“How? It doesn’t make sense, we found Shiro, I lost him before,” Keith reminds him, voice dull as he stares up at Lance. There’s a muted frustration to his words though, a palatable sense of loss and confusion as he stares up at Lance. Lance clings to it, clings to the possibility that Keith, his Keith and Red’s Keith, is locked away in there and Lance can get him back.

“Trauma doesn’t stop just because the cause ends,” Lance reminds him quietly, bumping his shoulder with a gentle grin. Keith looks down, gaze obscuring his eyes. Lance wonders if he’s thinking of Shiro. Lance wonders if that’s part of the problem, even though he knows that’s unfair (but so is this). “And you did, Keith you became a different person in about a month and a half.”

Keith glances up at him through his bangs; mouth sliding into a smirk, though his gaze is still too cold for Lance. “I’ve always been good at accomplishing my goals.”

“Yeah, but why was that your goal?” Lance asks, and he pushes down the frustration threatening to boil over. Lance isn’t going to push Keith away right when he might finally have a chance of bringing him home. He needs to stay calm, as calm as he doesn’t want Keith to be.

“I needed to be more like Shiro,” Keith explains as though it’s obvious, holding Lance’s gaze this time. Keith looks tired, unbearably so, and Lance thinks that if he wanted to be like Shiro he at least accomplished it in that respect. Lance wonders if Keith realizes just how much that would destroy Shiro (later he finds out Shiro is the one who bandaged Keith’s hands, so Lance guesses the answer is yes, Keith knows).

“No, you didn’t, and you don’t now,” Lance says, and he can’t keep the pleading out of his voice as he scrunches his eyebrows together and takes a step toward Keith. “If it - if it is trauma or you being lost, you could come back.”

Keith shakes his head, though he doesn’t move away from Lance and Lance decides to take that a victory. Keith smiles at him, sad and small, as defeated as the day Keith lost Red. It makes Lance want to punch something enough that he suddenly gets how Keith ended up with those bandages. “There are things you don’t get back, remember?”

“Why not? You had them before,” Lance says instead, voice coming out soft and pleading, one hand brushing against Keith’s bandaged knuckles. He bites his lip, leaning down so he’s looking Keith in the eyes. “We did. You can come home if you want to, Keith.”

“Good night, Lance,” Keith murmurs as he pulls away, not glancing back once as he makes his way down the rest of the hallway. But Lance saw the longing in his gaze, the brief glimpse of hope. He holds onto them tightly and they’re the only thing that keeps Lance going in the coming days the things that make him believe there’s a way back.

 **** 

“You need to hit me harder!” Lance shouts three days later, where after hours of pleading and cajoling he finally got Keith to come train with him. Keith’s barely participating, dodging every shot Lance gives him like it’s nothing and giving him punches that feel more like Pidge’s. Everything is perfunctory and emotionless and it only riles Lance up more. “C’mon, rat tail!”

“That doesn’t work as insult,” Keith answers with a shrug as he leaps back rom Lance’s next kick, landing gracefully a few feet away. Keith’s gaze is dull as he leaps over Lance’s legs on the next move, as though this is merely child’s play to him. But no, then Keith would be having fun or look genuinely bored instead of like a doll, pretty and lifeless.

“Damnit Keith, hit me like you mean it!” Lance shouts as Keith moves toward the wall, brushing his hair out of his face. He doesn’t look back as Lance follows him, and Lance wonders if it’s out of trust or because he doesn’t care if he gets hit anymore. Lance remembers his bandaged hands and decides he doesn’t want to know the answer yet. “The Keith I know would’ve knocked me over like six times by now!”

“Maybe, but you didn’t like that Keith,” Keith says, voice cold as he holds out a towel to Lance. A little bit of pain, bordering on distress, flickers across his gaze, though and it makes Lance’s stomach go cold.

Lance knows that he could be a jerk to Keith sometimes, that his jealousy probably is the reason they didn’t truly become friends – well, kindred spirits – until after Shiro got taken. But after everything they went through, when Lance is right here begging Keith to come home, Keith can’t think Lance hates him. He can’t. “Keith –“

“It’s okay, no one did. I’m not an idiot; I know what people at the Garrison said. Disciplinary issue, anger issues, _selfish_ ,” Keith lists off mechanically until he gets to selfish, voice growing tight and bitter, gaze flickering to life and then dying just as quickly. Lance remembers his words when Allura disappeared and wants to throw up. He didn’t know (but when does that ever matter in the end?) “But now I’m better. Logical. Loyal to the cause. L-“

“Lonely and kind of boring,” Lance finishes for him, trying to lighten the mood or at least get it out of the downward spiral they’re on, where Keith shifts back and forth between emptiness and a bitterness that Lance can’t decide is better or not.

“Thanks,” Keith says dryly, expression blank again as he walks past Lance and toward the door. Even his movements feel heavier, more robotic now. Doesn’t Keith feel that? Doesn’t he realize something is wrong here, with everything he’s lost? Lance just wants Keith to wake up. Keith’s next words though, make Lance’s blood boil. “You don’t get to pretend to like me now just because you don’t like flying Red.”

“Red and I are doing just fine, probably better than you did with her,” Lance snaps, voice tight and angry, and _that_ gets Keith to stop by the door. Keith turns around slowly, gaze a dull surprise and lips pressed into a small frown. It’s more emotion than Lance has seen from him in months and he can’t stop himself from pushing even when he knows it’s a bad idea. “You know what? Actually we’re not, but that wouldn’t matter to you because you’re right, you’re selfish.”

“You said that before,” Keith answers with a small cock of his head, some of the surprise sliding from his face as he takes another step back. He doesn’t turn around though, still staring at Lance. He has Keith’s attention, for once.

Lance knows he’s wrong even as he speaks, but he can’t stop himself, marching towards Keith with his fists balled, voice rising on every word. He’s angry and scared and he’s taking it out on the wrong person, but also the right person, because Lance is mad at Keith. He shouldn’t be, but he is. “Well this time I mean it! You’re over here drowning in your own self-pity instead of trying to get better! You kept going on about being _kindred spirits_ , but everyone wants you to be okay but you because apparently we don’t matter!”

“I am better!” Keith snaps, his voice rising as he leans forward, gaze blazing with hurt and rage that seems to shock Keith as much as it does Lance. He spits out every word and Lance can feel Red crying them in the back of his head two, voices reverberating together like the worst symphony. “Do you think I wanted to lose Red or to not be with Shiro right when we got him back? Do you think I dint miss being able to feel for more than five minutes? But no one’s ever wanted me – And you wouldn’t either.”

Keith walks out of the training room without another word. Once he’s gone Lance slides down the wall, fight gone out of him. Lance thinks he might have gone too far this time.

 

* * *

“I feel like it’s my fault,” Keith murmurs one day in therapy, after ten minutes of saying nothing and staring at the wall in front of him. Mylek raises an eyebrow, and Keith finally looks over at her and lets out a breath he thinks he’s been holding since his fight with Lance three days ago. “That I had to leave. That I lost Red.”

“You said that before, but your tone was different this time,” Mylek notes, and there’s no judgment there, just concern and curiosity. It’s not how adults (well, older adults) talk to Keith, not how they look at him. Keith’s never been anything but a problem child, but Mylek only sees the latter and it throws Keith off-balance a little more each session.

Keith bites his lip, glancing down at his hands. Had let him use the healing pods, after he ran into the hallway, but it was too late to stop the small scars decorating his knuckles. They’re too shallow to affect his grip, but they’re there, reminding him what he lost every time he takes his gloves off. “Lance said I was selfish, for leaving.”

“Is that what he said?” Mylek asks as she takes a sip of her water. There’s a note of challenge in her voice, as though she’s asking him to evaluate his conversation with Lance, and that kind of thinking has never been in his skillsets. He’s good at the big picture and the moment, not the aftermath.

“Yeah,” Keith says, crossing his arms defensively, and he knows from her gently raised eyebrow that he said it just a little too fast. Keith sighs, rolling over Lance’s words in his head. He called Keith selfish, but the why Keith isn’t sure of, didn’t care about because the word was enough to hurt him. “Kind of. He said I was drowning in self-pity.”

“And how did that make you feel?” Mylek says as she glances over at Keith. It’s an easy, cliché question; the type Keith rolls his eyes at when someone asks it in a movie. It’s harder to roll his eyes when he’s the one forced to face how he feels (or doesn’t feel).

“Angry,” Keith admits after a beat, voice tinged with surprise. Keith hasn’t felt connected, aware of his emotions in weeks, but they’re starting to feel a little closer to the surface, a little less dull. The white noise in the back of his head is more of a constant than an occasion now. Mylek smiles a little at his shock as she nods for him to continue. “It’s not like I don’t want to go back. Of course I miss all of them and Red but …”

“But?” Mylek asks, raising an eyebrow. Keith takes a sip of his water, gazing down at his blurred reflection in the glass when he sets it back down on the table.

“I don’t miss me,” Keith mutters, voice low and sheepish as his answer stares him in the face. He doesn’t want to be Keith anymore, being this is easier, better, or it was at the start before his emotions started pushing to the surface, before Lance and Shiro and Red came back into his life along with everyone else.

“We’re getting to the root,” Mylek tells him with an encouraging smile, as though the quiet despair and guilt is feeling right now is a _good_ thing. “You said you don’t miss you?”

“I … Sometimes I do, but this is, it was better,” Keith admits, because he misses the emotion, he misses the anger but also the joy and his instincts. But he’s more logical this way, a better leader and more patient. He’s more like Shiro and that’s all Keith has ever wanted to be. Sacrificing his emotions was worth that. He just didn’t think he’d lose Shiro (and Red and Voltron) in the process.

“I don’t think that’s true,” Mylek argues, her voice gentle but firm as she glances over at him. Keith scoffs, because the only Keith she knows is that one and the one she’s seen in therapy. But the look still makes him squirm in his seat a little, his gaze dropping to the floor. “That’s part of this. You think this … doll version of Shiro is better than you.”

Doll Keith? Keith can’t stop himself from snorting at the name, shaking his head fondly. That sounded like someone from Voltron all right. “Hunk?”

“Pidge,” Mylek says with a small chuckle, and Keith smiles a little at her words. He’s surprised Pidge didn’t go with robo-Keith. “Your friends miss you.”

“They won’t if I come back,” Keith murmurs, shaking his head as the smile slides into a tired frown. They miss him because they think they should, not because they do, but Keith was always the odd one out, always a little distant from everyone else. That’s how it’s always been when he’s himself, but Shiro is … people like Shiro. “Everyone always wanted me to be like Shiro –“

“You think everyone wanted you to be like Shiro,” Mylek corrects him, voice gentle as she cuts Keith off. Keith pauses at that, trying to think of an argument and coming up short. He doesn’t have one and the thought makes him sit up straight in his chair, eyes widening a little. “Maybe it’s time you asked?”

 **** 

“I was trying to be like you,” Keith says quietly as he sits across from Shiro two days after therapy, legs dangling from the rec room stool. Even Shiro’s just barely touch the floor. Shiro stares at him, mouth pressed into a thin line, one hand coming to gently rest against Keith’s shoulders.

“Keith, I don’t know how to break this to you, but I have feelings,” Shiro tells him, voice teasing as he smiles down at Keith. His gaze is sad though, guilty, and Keith’s shakes his head, pressing his hand over the one Shiro still has lying against the table.

“I know that,” Keith answers in a tired voice, sighing a little at the bemused expression on Shiro’s face. He knows he’s not making sense, but he doesn’t know if Shiro could ever understand. Shiro _is_ Shiro, so he can’t know what it’s like to idolize him the way Keith does. Shiro is every good thing Keith lacks. “But you’re so calm and patient, and I’m not and – I wanted to make you proud.”

“Keith, you don’t need to be like me to be a good leader _or_ to make me proud,” Shiro tells him in a steady voice, the hand on his shoulder sliding around Keith more fully so they’re sitting there in a half hug. Shiro’s gaze is tired and a little hurt, and Keith winces at the expression. He never wanted to hurt anyone else by changing, but it feels like that’s all he’s done. He’s supposed to be better.

Keith bites his lip and glances down, trying to think of the best way to word his thoughts. He doesn’t want to sound like he’s blaming Shiro, but he doesn’t know how to ask what he needs to know without doing that. In the end, Keith decides to be blunt because that’s easier than trying to think of how Shiro would have asked the question. “You said I needed control my emotions more.”

“Control, not suppress or bury them,” Shiro answers back, voice unbearably gentle as he stares down at Keith, expression tender and adoring. Keith can feel his own gaze growing tighter as he leans against Shiro a little more fully. “I wanted you to be more open with me and the rest of the team and find healthy outlets, like sparring with someone or gardening instead of bottling everything up until you exploded. That’s all I meant.”

“Oh,” Keith murmurs, voice small as he wipes at his eyes a little, the sting of tears growing behind them. He’s practically clinging to Shiro like a life vest now, curled into his side as he takes in Shiro’s words. They make him feel lighter than he has in months and make him want to sob at the same time.

“I guess I should’ve been a little more clear,” Shiro says as he squeezes Keith’s shoulder, gaze still warm and affectionate. Keith stares back at him and shakes his head a little, because he thinks most people would’ve understood. But Keith does now. Shiro likes _him_. Shiro wanted _him_ to be the temporary leader (even if that was still a bad idea). “You know you can always come back home, Keith.”

“I don’t have a home,” Keith mutters, voice pained and guilty even to his own ears. He traded Voltron for his insecurities. That’s all there is to it.

“Yes, you do,” Shiro tells him with a grin, and the words feel more like a promise than a statement. Keith slides off the stool along with Shiro, the thrum in the back of his head soft and heady. Keith doesn’t know what he’s doing, but then he finds himself pressing himself against Shiro’s chest, arms wrapping around his friend’s shoulder. Shiro hugs him back after a moment, comforting and firm and there, before they go their separate ways.

Keith only gets a few feet down the hallway before he sees Lance. They stare at each other for a moment, both stopping in their paths. It’s the first time they’ve seen each other since their fight.

“Keith, I’m sorry, I was out of line,” Lance says right away, shaking his head ruefully as he stares at Keith. His eyebrows are sloped down, mouth pressed into a thin line that’s tight with worry. Guilt is radiating off of him as much as it is Keith.

“Lance,” Keith answers back, voice soft as he takes a step toward his friend. Or he hopes they’ll still be friends, if they ever were. Keith gives him a shaky smile, guilt heavy in his own gaze. They’ve both said the wrong thing a lot this week. Keith hopes that’s coming to an end this time. “I – I’m sorry too, for yelling at you. That wasn't right. And you’re right, I was selfish.”

“No you weren’t, you were trying to be what you thought we needed,” Lance says in surprisingly firm voice, gaze tight and sincere and leaving no room for argument. Keith blinks a little because he remembers Lance is right about that too; Black wouldn’t work with him and the team needed guidance and support, so Keith tried to be like the only good leader he’s ever known. Somewhere along the way in trying to be what Voltron and Black needed, Keith just lost himself too.

“Yeah, but … I let my own insecurities and hang-ups get in the way of Voltron,” Keith adds as the last thought hits him, smiling a little sadly. Keith tried so hard to be what he thought everyone needed and wanted, that he didn’t pay attention to what was really happening until it was too late.

“Maybe, but you know, and this is gonna be a pretty big shock, but I’ve got some experience with that,” Lance tells him with a crooked grin, and Keith stares back at him in confusion. Lance makes a revving noise with his mouth to remind Keith of Nyma and probably several other moments in their rivalry (they usually involved flying) and Keith actually chortles, the sound brittle but real. Keith’s laughing again. “If you ever wanna talk about it.”

“Thanks Lance, that means a lot to me,” Keith tells him, smiling a little as he reaches a hand out. Lance takes it after a moment, but instead of shaking it, he pulls Keith into a quick half hug. Keith leans into the space Lance was after he’s gone. Keith thinks he might talk to him this time.

 

* * *

“I have to admit that Blade uniform does look good on you,” Lance tells Keith with a grin a few days after they makeup. Keith has been coming to the common room more and more, still too muted, too empty, but there and present. Lance doesn’t think he can ask for more. Not yet. “Like you could go hang out with Kevin Flynn.”

Then something amazing happens. Keith cocks his head, eyebrows rising a little as Keith’s mouth forms into a small “oh”. His gaze is soft and confused, blinking owlishly as Lance stands there staring at him. Finally Keith shakes his head and leans forward, gaze a little more pointed, though the rest of his expression stays the same. “Who?”

“80’s movie, don’t worry about it,” Lance tells him, grin soft and wide as Keith gives him a small nod, the confusion lingering in his gaze even as they turn back toward the battle plans for their upcoming mission. Inside though, Lance is still smiling. That look is the same one Keith gave him when he didn’t get the cheer, when he didn’t understand pop culture references. It’s _Keith_ , expressive and open (if only with his face and not you know, words), and Lance wants to breathe it for as long as he can.

**** 

A few days later Keith lets out a laugh at something Hunk says, loud and bright, head flung back as Lance walks into the common room. Lance catches Hunk’s gaze from across the room, and they both move slowly, with forced ease, toward Keith, not wanting to ruin the moment. Keith’s grinning now, the soft, shy smile that means he’s genuinely happy. “What are you guys talking about?”

“I was telling him about our latest trip to Arusia,” Hunk answers with a chuckle, making another imitation of thee spit take they did this time with the cups in front of him. Keith giggles again, gently poking one of the cups as though the disgusting liquid might appear right in front of him. Lance wonders if Keith would down it again to prove he’s as tough as Lance like the last time they were both in Arusia. A few days ago he would’ve said no, but now Lance isn’t so sure. He misses those, their more light-hearted competitions.

“They missed you,” Lance mutters as he takes one of the cups from Hunk, sipping the drink inside of it without really tasting it. He glances at Keith over the top of his cup, and Keith gives him a small, sad smile. Lance thinks Keith knows who really misses him.

“Yeah, I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” Keith says after a beat, tone yearning as he picked up the other cup and held it with both hands. “I wanted a rematch with Klaizap.”

“You are almost the same size,” Lance mutters after a beat, wriggling his eyebrows at Keith. He can’t hold back the grin on his face when Keith crosses his arms, glaring lightly at Lance and pouting and looking more like Keith Kim than he has in ages.

****

“You’re getting better,” Lance says one day when he’s sitting next to Keith in the training room, Keith’s eyebrows sloped downward and scrunched together, lips pressed into a tight frown as he read over the mission plan.

“Hmm?” Keith asks, glancing up at him, eyebrows rising a little and mouth sliding into a small “oh”. His eyes are wide, shoulders still tense as though he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop, but even that’s a marked difference from where Keith was two weeks ago when Lance and the others first arrived.

“You’re expressive again,” Lance explains with a small smile, one that grows wider when Keith’s frown only deepens, eyebrows sloping down more in confusion. He never realized how adorable that expression was until it was gone. Lance pokes Keith in one cheek, Keith’s gaze growing a little flatter as he does. “You’re face, I can tell what you’re thinking.”

“You can?” Keith asks shyly, smiling up at Lance sheepishly, one hand running through his ponytail. “Yeah, I’ve been feeling … more. Lance do you – do you like me?”

Lance cocks his head, not sure where the question is coming from, but then he remembers. Their fight, Keith’s words. Keith looks down, shaking his head and Lance somehow knows Keith is about to take his question back, call it childish or silly, and it’s all those things, but it’s also _important_ because it’s something Keith has never heard before. Not from him, and maybe not from anyone. Lance gives Keith a warm smile, snaking one arm across his shoulder. “Yeah Keith, I do.”

* * *

It’s a day after his talk with Lance that the thrum in the back of his head finally becomes clear, weak whispered words in the back of his head. Hurt and anger, but most of all worry and longing, the same worry and longing that’s been at the pit of Keith’s stomach since he left Voltron two months ago. _Red_.

“You’re there,” Keith says without preamble as he walks into the hangar, pressing a hand against her chest. The metal feels warm under his fingertips even though Keith knows it must be cold, Red’s voice a quiet grumble in the back of his head.

Keith lets the tears pricking at the back of his face fall this time as he presses his cheek against Red, leans on her and lets her wrap around him. The connection is thin and weak; both their voices heavy from disuse, but it’s _there_. “You were the thrum in the back of my head, the empty space. You were never really gone.”

“I know, I know, I was the one who left,” Keith says when Red lets out a roar that sounds more like a huff in the back of his head. She leans down toward him, nuzzling him a little with her metal jaw. It’s not gentle and Keith knows it wouldn’t have been even if she were a real cat. It’s angry and protective and scared, all the things Keith feels in the pit of his stomach right now. It’s also admonishing, because Keith left, Keith broke their connection and Red doesn’t think she can handle that again.

“I promise it won’t happen again,” Keith swears because he can’t handle it either now that he has her back in some form, though they both know he can’t promise that. Not when the connection is so fragile and they’re in the middle of a war. Still Red feels warm and safe and most of all, forgiving, as she presses her nose against Keith. “Trust me, it wasn’t fun for me either.”

Red scoffs at him, teasing and playful, all tough love and pushing Keith to be _stronger_ , not better. Keith looks up at her dim yellow eyes and smirks, holding out his blade with one hand so she can see it. “Wanna hear about the badass sword moves I learned with the Blade?”

“I knew you would,” Keith says at the rumble in the back of his head and the way her eyes light up, filling hangar with warm golden light as Keith sits down on her leg. For right now, this is enough. “You and me, Red? We’re kindred spirits.” 

* * *

“We all missed you, you know,” Lance says one day when he and Keith are leaning back against a wall in the training room, both of them sweaty and exhausted. Keith knocked him over twice today, smirking each time. Lance almost finds the sight to beautiful to be annoyed.

“I’m still gone,” Keith points out, gesturing toward his blade uniform with a bittersweet smile. Lance thinks it looks more like a grimace, Keith’s fingers trailing over the dark grey of the uniform. It fits him like a glove, but Lance finds that it looks wrong on Keith now, more like a costume than anything else. Keith isn’t a Blade of Marmora.

That’s not what he meant though. Lance shakes his head gently, glancing over at Keith’s expression, anxious and a little sad. Keith is more open with those feelings too now, the vulnerabilities as much as the anger, and Lance feels like he can finally reach Keith through all of their insecurities. The distance is gone. “No, you’re not. Not in the same way at least.”

“I missed you guys too,” Keith says with a smirk, teasing even though his gaze is sincere as he gently pushes Lance with his shoulder. He looks down at the floor after a moment, expression tinged with regret. “Not for as long, I guess.”

“Yeah the last six weeks before you left for the Blade we’re … they were rough,” Lance admits, the same feeling coming over him. Lance wonders if there’s a version of them where he reached out to Keith in those six weeks, or Hunk did or Allura, if someone could have gotten to him before he hurt himself so much he had to go away.

Lance wonders and then he stops because there’s no way of knowing. What matters is that Keith is here now.

“Trust me, they weren’t great for me either,” Keith mutters, voice a little harsh as he stares out the window. Lance knows the annoyance is directed inward and not at him, but Lance isn’t sure that’s any better.

“You wouldn’t even fight with me,” Lance sighs dramatically, throwing one hand across his heart as he leans even further against the wall. Keith raises an eyebrow, frowning softly as Lance stares down at him and grins.

“Promise I will next time you piss me off,” Keith answers with a smirk, both more playful and a little wearier than his old one, but just as strong.

“It’s a date,” Lance says, smile deepening at the way Keith flushes and looks away at his words, arms crossing tightly against his chest. Keith is Keith.

****

“I can hear Red again,” Keith tells him one day while they’re watching Big Hero Six in the common room. Keith doesn’t meet Lance’s gaze as he speaks, arms wrapped around his legs and staring at the floor. His bangs obscure most of his face, but Lance can still see the anxiety and joy in them from where he’s perched on the other side of the couch.

“I know,” Lance says with a small nod, staring at Keith. Keith slowly unfurls, arms still wrapped around his legs as he meets Lance’s own. “She’s been a little quieter on my end. Blue’s pretty pleased, as much as she loves Allura.”

“Yeah, I can imagine,” Keith says with a small laugh, gaze nostalgic as though thinking back to those first few days with their new Lions. Lance remembers how well Allura took to the skies (though there were some rocky moments where Allura’s battle ready spirit and Blue’s calmer demeanor clashed), but also how much Blue loved him. It had been a struggle to get the lions to let them switch, even temporarily. Lance understands their objections better now. Keith looks up at him, voice almost timid on his next few words. “So you’re not mad?”

“You’re seriously asking me that?” Lance asks, raising an eyebrow as Keith’s shoulders droop a little, arms pulling tighter across his legs. He’s glaring, but Lance knows now this one, with its sad eyes and worried mouth, means Keith is anxious not mad. “Keith I _want_ you back. I literally don’t know how to make that clearer.”

“No, I know, but I don’t want you to feel like I’m taking something from you,” Keith answers with a grimace, eyebrows sloping down a little. Lance understands why. Piloting Red, even with Keith being the one who chose him, had made his insecurities flare up at times, his fears he couldn’t measure up, the same way they had for Keith with Black. But Lance understands now that each of them belongs to their Lion as much as the Lion belongs to them, that Keith is as flawed and human as him. There is nothing to be jealous of, only thing to accept, and Lance is sad he wasted time on pettiness when they could have been friends so much earlier.

“I don’t,” Lance promises with a small grin, leaning toward Keith so that their eye to eye. He needs his words to get through to Keith. “Red was always yours and Blue was mine. That’s the way it’s supposed to be.”

“Yeah, yeah it was,” Keith agrees softly, smile crooked as he stares back at Lance. It’s not in the present tense, not yet, but Lance thinks they almost are and the thought makes him press his hand against Keith’s thoughtlessly. Keith entangles his fingers through Lance’s after a moment, and they spend the rest of the movie trying to hold each other there.

* * *

“I can hear Red again,” Keith tells Mylek with a grin when he goes to therapy the day before the Blade’s mission with Voltron, weeks of careful planning about to unfold in a matter of hours. After that the two teams will part again. Keith thinks he’s starting to know where he’ll be in the aftermath of that.

“Can you?” Mylek asks with a warm smile, her gaze kind as Keith nods, excitement threatening to bubble over. The only people he’s told so far are Lance and Shiro, too afraid of losing the connection before it grew strong again.

“Yeah,” Keith answers, still grinning as he leans back so he can look up and see Mylek’s face more clearly. Keith’s smile grows a little softer, a little more sheepish at his next thought. It’s a relief, but one that’s hard to put into words. And Keith isn’t good with them in the first place. “Being the … new Keith, it’s harder now.”

Mylek quirks an eyebrow at him, leaning forward so their faces are closer together as she asks her next question. “The new Keith?”

“That’s what Hunk called him, it was nicer than ‘doll’,” Keith answers with a small laugh, though his gaze grows a little distant after a moment. He feels better, more like himself but … he’s still different. Keith is more open now, joy and vulnerabilities spilling out with the people he trusts as easily as his anger or protectiveness. “But I feel more like the old me, but not exactly –“

“Of course not, you have grown up since then, Keith,” Mylek tells him, her smile gentle and proud as she writes something down on her paper.

“I thought you said I made a mistake, acting like Shiro,” Keith asks, not able to keep the confusion out of his voice or face, eyebrows scrunching together. Mylek nods in agreement, and Keith lets the momentary tension building in his stomach fade.

“You did, but learning from your mistake helped you grow,” Mylek explains as she clasps her hands together. Keith considers her words with a careful frown. Has he grown since he tried to be like Shiro and failed? Is that what being more open with everything, even the parts of him that scared him or made him feel weak, meant? Keith thinks, he thinks growing up isn’t as bad as he used to think if that’s true. “You have to be yourself before you can change.”

“Maybe,” Keith says with a small smile, and when Mylek presses a hand over his fist, loose and not clenched, Keith understands this is a goodbye. “Thank you, by the way. For helping me.”

“Helping you helps the universe,” Mylek answers as she stands up, her smile thoughtful as she gazes at Keith.

“Stardust,” Keith agrees even though that likely means nothing to Mylek. But Keith knows she doesn’t just mean Voltron, but also that universal connection between them all, that tie that means they need to help and care for each other. Keith thought he understood it before, but his time without being able to feel that connection made it all the more clear how important stardust is. 

* * *

On the piloting end, the mission is going smoothly, everyone in place and no surprises from the Galra so far. Lance’s job is easy, almost to the point of boredom. Or it would be, if Red’s voice wasn’t rapidly becoming more and more of a whisper each day, making it more difficult to pilot her. Lance wonders if this is what Keith felt like in those days when Black wouldn’t speak to him at all.

“Red, could really use some advice right now,” Lance shouts at her, shaking his head in the cockpit as Red whispers something about burning the drones to the ground. The how though, is muddled, Red’s voice too soft and Blue’s roar in the back of his head too loud. Lance stumbles over his controls, pushing at Red a little. “Red?”

“Thanks, Blue, wanna tell us where to point that sword?” Lance says when blue suddenly yells to turn right, but this time Red tells him to stab to the left and down, Blue adding that he should do it quickly lest they lose the other arm. “Thanks you two, you work beautifully together.”

“Yeah, Blue, we did it,” Lance murmurs as Voltron splits apart, the enemy drones defeated and the path back to the base clear. They’ just took down one of the most important bases in the entire Galra empire. Now Lance can only hope the Blade members inside are able to finish wiping out the rest. “There’s nothing in our way. We just have to wait for the others to get back.”

“Hey Red? I’ll miss you,” Lance adds after a moment, her voice growing quieter though not yet gone as Lance flies her back to the hangar. She’s with the Paladin still in danger, and there’s no place Lance would rather have her be right now. 

* * *

The plan is falling apart before Keith’s gaze, the entrance he’s meant to go through blocked off by a block of metal. Keith turns to the side, trying to think of alternative routes Kolivan had told him, other entrances. They must have had a backup plan, one Keith can find. In the back of his mind, Red sounds distant and ashamed and Keith bites his lip, because not helping, Red.

“Shit,” Keith murmurs as he hears guards coming down the hallway, toward him and also toward the way to where a few Blade members are hacking the system. If they got to them, this entire mission would be ruined.

But there’s no plan for this and Keith has no idea what to do– except yes, he does. He’s been a fool. Patience yields focus, but instinct yields action. It has always been both, together, and Keith never understood before. Keith closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, lets Red’s passion and his own fill his veins as he grips his blade. Keith knows what to do because he knows he doesn’t always need a plan.

“Okay, Red, let’s do this,” Keith dives into the air as one of the drones comes running at him, sliding on the ground so he hacks off one’s legs and sends the robot flying into the other drone so they end up in a heap on the ground. Keith looks up toward the ceiling and spots an air vent, and uses the head of the dying robot to propel himself up enough to pull himself inside. If Kolivan’s map is to be trusted, he can get out to the other Blades through here. Inside his head, Red roars proudly, her voice loud and full. “And guys? Next time I’ll have _two_ swords.”

* * *

“Hey Red, guessing I might not hear you anymore after today. I’m gonna miss you,” Lance says when everyone else has left the hangar, waving them off with a lie about how he needed more cool down time. What Lance needs is to say goodbye to his temporary partner in crime. “We didn’t make a half bad team.”

Red roars gently in the back of his mind, a few of their sweeter bonding moments flickering through both their memories. Lance smiles at the memories, at the careful, complex bond he and Red have formed. It’s special in its own way, but it’s no the natural, easy bond he has with Blue, not the sense of being recognized and understood fully. Lance thinks Red understands. “But I can’t pretend that I’m not happy about being with Blue again.”

“Oh, don’t growl at me, you’re not sad to see me go,” Lance says with a small laugh, nudging one of her metal legs with his shoulder. Red makes a soft rumble in the back of his head, this time a flickering image of Keith flashing before him. As much as Lance missed Keith, Red missed him more a thousand times more. “I promise I’ll help take care of him if you do. And be good for him, even when he’s being a pain.”

“Hey Blue, good to have you back at full volume,” Lance says after a beat, as Red’s voice grows dimmer and dimmer and Blue’s reaches him, loud and full and comforting, her gentle rhythm never leaving the back of his head. Lance walks over to her, wrapping her leg in a hug as she brings her metal head down to brush against the top of his. “Did Allura already say goodbye to you? Yeah, she is the best.”

“Hey,” A voice calls out, and Lance glances up to find Keith, back in his ridiculous jacket and black jeans, his gaze locked on Red. Lance smiles, thinking Keith looks better, more _right_ like this than in the Blade uniform. Though he’s glad Keith’s keeping the ponytail, for his own sake.

“Hey,” Lance answers softly as he gives Blue another hug before letting go. Even apart, he and Blue talk everyday, Lance sneaking into the hangars to sit inside of her and share his fears and dreams, his hopes and his losses. They’ve only been apart in battle, not in their hearts or minds. Keith and Red though … Lance wants to give them space. “Take care of her.”

“I will,” Keith promises as Red’s mouth falls open, Keith climbing inside of her with a soft smile. Lance hears him mutter ‘good kitty’ before he leaves the hangar, and everything feels soft.

* * *

“Morning Red,” Keith mumbles as he wakes up curled up in his chair, arms wrapped tightly around his knife. Red purrs, the vibrations soft and inviting. Keith stretches a little, placing the blue blanket (he’ll have to give that back to Lance before they leave) to the side as he sits up. “You know, you don’t make a half bad bed.”

“They’re all out there, huh?” Keith asks after a second, nervous even though he knows he shouldn’t be. His friends have been there for him, waited for him when he couldn’t be there for himself or at all. Still, a small, nagging part of Keith is afraid to ask to come back, that the prophecy of Fake Shiro’s words about leaving will come true. “Think I could stay inside a little longer?”

Red’s mouth opens and leans down almost immediately, a low grumble in the back of his head as Keith nearly stumbles out of her. Keith rolls his eyes affectionately, rubbing one hand over the control panel. “I’ll take that as a no.”

“Hey,” Keith mutters as he leans his head out of Red’s mouth, gingerly stepping out of her head and onto the ground. He glances across the room, from Shiro to Allura to Lance and Hunk and Pidge and to Coran. His home, as new and strange as it was, the only one Keith’s known since he was seven. He wants to go home. “I know you’re all going back to the castle today. I … I wanna come back, if you guys –“

Keith is wrapped up in a tight bear hug before he can finish his sentence, strong arms wrapping around his back. Keith stills for a moment before falling into the embrace, his head pressed against Hunk’s shoulder. Pidge wraps her arms around him from the side, and Keith brings a hand down to ruffle her hair. “Our Keith is back and New Keith is gone!”

“Yeah, yeah I’m not going anywhere,” Keith promises with a sheepish laugh as the three of them slowly break apart, Hunk’s gaze teary. Keith rolls his eyes at him, even though he can feel the tears starting to build behind his own eyes a well. He turns to find Allura, smile bright as she wraps her arms around him. Keith hugs her just as tightly, smiling as he muses that it’s not as awkward as their last hug. Maybe they’re both a little less awkward now too. “Hey, Allura.”

“There’s a reason I said Voltron needed all of you. Welcome home, Keith,” Allura says, voice kind but still formal and a little too tight as she pulls back, Keith almost hitting her in the head as he pulls his own arm back. They both laugh, warm and friendly. Only less awkward with each other then. Coran pats him on the shoulder; gaze warm and relieved as Keith gives him a quick half hug.

“Good to have you back,” Shiro says, voice warm as Keith reaches his hand out to shake. Shiro shakes his head, smile soft and teasing as he pulls Keith into a tight hug. Keith lets his head against Shiro, holds onto him tightly even though he knows he’s being a little clingy. But he’s been separated from Shiro, his best friend, his older brother, so many times that being reunited never stops feeling special.

“Good to be back,” Keith murmurs, letting one of the tears slide down his cheek. Shiro doesn’t mention it, his own gaze a little glassy as the hug breaks apart. Shiro ruffles his hair a little, bangs going everywhere and Keith laughs, watery but happy.

“Hey there, Anne,” Lance murmurs with a smirk even as he pulls Keith into a tight hug, cheek to cheek as they just stand there for a few moments. Keith doesn’t know how to thank Lance with words yet, so for now he just laces his fingers through Lance’s, squeezing his hand softly and hoping he understands all the meaning Keith is putting into it. Wait. Anne? Keith pulls back a little to raise an eyebrow at Lance. “Pidge told me you got that kindred spirits thing from _Anne of Green Gables_.”

“It’s a good book!” Keith defends himself, crossing his arms and pouting at the rest of them, earning a loud chorus of laughter from everyone else. Then Keith smiles, soft and sweet arms falling to his side as he looks at them one by one. “And we are all kindred spirits.”

“Yeah, we are,” Lance says with a warm smile as he pulls Keith into another hug, Hunk and Pidge coming in on the left and Allura and Coran on the right, while Shiro slides in the back. They all stand there like that for a moment, awkward and uncomfortable, but whole.

* * *

 

Once upon a time, Red’s cub got very lost. But Red and Blue’s cub and all the other cubs helped him find his way home. That’s all there is to it.


End file.
